Last Meal Game

We've all played this at sleepovers when it's too late to have a normal conversation and too early to argue religion. You're getting executed tomorrow, what do you have for your last meal? And there's always a little shit that says something like spaghettio's and applecores. Fuck that kid. The same kid that puts only ketchup on his hot dog and gets it in his gross wispy white hair, on his splotchy pink cheeks, and in between his tiny unevenly spaced teeth. Man, white people have the grossest kids. Do the world a favor and have a mixed baby.

Back on topic. People generally choose between the most expensive thing they've ever eaten or whatever their mom made them when they grew up. I'm a proponent of the latter. I can't think of any meal I've had a restaurant that was so good that it made me go retarded for a second. My mom's pork chops do every time. There's something to that mix of garlic, sage, and pork fat that gives me a fat spurt of serotonin so intense that I forget my name and address for a second. The thought of chili stew and fry bread sends me back to the reservation like nothing else can. Even though I've never had a chili stew taste the same way twice. Roasted corn on the cob in the husk with tons of butter and salt tastes how a drum group sounds at noon with nothing but a warm can of coke to drink. I can't think of a good time I've had without remembering the food I had with it. Good food brings you home, and good chefs make that happen without ever laying an eye on you. Good chefs are hard to come by but that doesn't matter the least bit. My last meal would come to roughly 7 bones, 8.50 with a soda.